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“Might be good for you to take him along,” Cruz said. “You’re still an outsider here. Having a local might help soften people toward you. You can come off as kind of an ass.”
Lincoln threw a pen across the room at Cruz. “The only reason people might not like me is because I look like you.”
The banter between the twin brothers usually amused Chet, but not now. Not with so much at stake and a shit ton to do. “Eddy’s always wanted to be best buds with me. Anything I ask, he’ll answer then elaborate more than I ever cared to know.”
Lincoln dipped his chin. “All right.”
“What about Mia’s car?” He didn’t mind giving her a ride to and from work, but she’d want her vehicle back as soon as possible.
“It’ll be cleared for her to pick up later today,” Cruz said. “No prints. No evidence left behind.”
“I’ll bring her down to get it. But I want to talk with Eddy first.”
Frowning, Tucker came back in the room. “I got ahold of Elizabeth.”
Chet fought with the need to spring into action and be there for his friend. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt anything, so he stayed rooted to the burgundy carpet. “How’d it go?”
Tucker slunk down into a chair, his weight shifting the wheels backward. “Umm, okay I guess. She said she’d help.”
A wave of appreciation washed over him, and a little bit of hope broke through his shield of pessimism. Things were finally going his way, the pieces falling into place. The case was reopened with new evidence and victims to pour over, and now two new members of the team with a ton of experience could shine a new light on things. “Thanks for reaching out,” he said, emotion wedging in his throat.
Tucker shook his head, his lips pressed in a thin line. “I just need a minute. Then I can do whatever you guys need.”
“I have to let Mia know I’m taking off,” Chet said as he made his way toward the door. “She should be in the kitchen. Said she was going to get an early start on lunch and prep for dinner.”
Three pairs of eyes stared at him, mouths agape.
“What?” he snapped, hating the interested looks aimed at him.
Tucker threw his palms in front of him as if warding off Chet’s temper. “Nothing. Just wasn’t aware you and Mia were friends. Never knew you to check in with her.”
Chet clenched his jaw, weighing his words wisely. Something had shifted inside him, softened him toward Mia. His instant attraction to her had made him throw up a million walls, the unwanted feelings causing guilt and confusion. But after spending time with her, he realized he’d been unfair. He’d taken out his own shit on her, something she didn’t deserve.
Something he needed to make up for.
But he didn’t need to announce that to the room. “She’s scared, can you blame her? I told her I’d stick close. But if she’s here, she’s safe. I just want to let her know I’ll be gone for a little bit.”
All three men continued to stare, eyebrows now hooked as if they didn’t buy his bullshit.
“Knock it off. Lincoln, I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes.” He stormed away without giving them another look. He didn’t need to explain anything to them. Hell, he couldn’t even understand the urge to watch over and protect Mia.
He was just being neighborly. Something he hadn’t felt compelled to do for a while. He’d been stuck in limbo, nursing his wounds and just making it through the day. But now, if justice could finally be dealt, he might start living again. Might see a future that was more than just cooking food and brooding at home alone.
For the first time in a long time, he smiled, knowing that good days laid ahead of him again. And he couldn’t help but wonder if he had Mia to thank for that.
* * *
A low whinedrew Mia’s attention to Otto. He stood in the doorway, eyes round and pleading. Tail straight and unmoving. “I’m sorry, boy. I know you need to go out.”
She’d spent the last hour pouring over preparations for the rest of the meals for the day. Planning carefully to allow for crossovers tomorrow. Roast beef for dinner that could be made into a stew in the morning. Roasted peppers that she’d chop up and throw in with the eggs for breakfast—if there were leftovers.
She’d always been a good cook but working at the retreat had taught her how to be a better planner. A lesson she’d take with her when she left.
Lifting the lid from the roaster, she inhaled the scents of garlic and savory beef. “Give me just one second and I’ll take you outside.”
Brooke waltzed into the kitchen, hauling bags filled with pantry staples. “You know he won’t talk back, right? Trust me. I’ve tried for years to get Wyatt to answer me and nothing.”
Mia chuckled. “Where is Wyatt?” Brooke’s tan and cream-colored mutt usually followed her around while she worked, but he was nowhere to be found.
